


The Finest of Wines

by Chromi



Series: Originally Posted to FF.net (2011 - 2013) [2]
Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Blow Jobs, Drinking, Drunk Sex, Drunken Flirting, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Period-Typical Homophobia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Teasing, Topping from the Bottom, kind of? a little? - Freeform, originally posted in 2013
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:48:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24507184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chromi/pseuds/Chromi
Summary: During the Mahrajan festival, Sharrkan loses all inhibitions and chooses to entertain himself with Masrur for the night. Masrur willingly obliges.
Relationships: Masrur/Sharrkan (Magi)
Series: Originally Posted to FF.net (2011 - 2013) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1770784
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to FF.net on April 6th 2013. Moving here for archive purposes and so I can delete my FF.net account!
> 
> Fair warning: this is copied over exactly as it was posted more than 7 years ago. Some of the content reads somewhat... poorly. Some of it reads as if both Masrur and Sharrkan have some form of internalised homophobia, or at the very least the expectation that they're only supposed to partake in hetero relationships. This was done to try and convey the state of mind of the world they live in, however 2013 Me didn't handle this particularly sensitively or delicately. 
> 
> I did consider rewriting bits of the content to fix this, however I think there is merit in preserving the original and acknowledging and learning from the glaring problems in it. So, therefore, please bear this in mind when reading. If nothing else, it serves as evidence that I've grown considerably as a writer since then!

Ah, this was not good at all.

Really, _really_ not good.

Sinbad had coerced him into drinking far too much once again. OK, granted, Sinbad had actually done nothing more than hand him the first drink, but for that he should be held responsible for the state his general had ended up in, right?

Sharrkan certainly thought so, for what it was worth.

But ah, he is so drunk he can't focus on anything beyond the thought of _I am not drunk, nope._ The festival has been so much fun so far that he couldn't help but enjoy himself to his fullest, drinking, eating and flirting with the kingdom's beautiful women for all he was worth; he'd even helped out Alibaba with a woman or two, insisting that he let go and have fun too, to which his student had fervently agreed and thanked him gleefully.

Ja'far is no fun tonight, having declined any of Sin's advances with the wine (and otherwise - Sharrkan doesn't want to think about the groping he'd witnessed earlier). Pisti is nowhere to be seen now - probably in the company of a young man or two, knowing her. Yamuraiha is out of the question, seeing as she had insulted both his sword and his manhood earlier ( _"is your sword compensating for something, Sharr? It's awfully_ long _, isn't it?"_ ). Spartos just no, Drakon and Hinahoho are lingering around Sinbad as usual...

After much deliberation, Masrur is to be his best friend tonight.

The Fanalis has been drinking too, but still able to walk in a straight line and keep his eyes focused, much unlike the other general who approached now. He looks up at Sharrkan from his seat beside a bonfire, noting how the white haired man seemed to be trying to lean on thin air.

"Evening, Mas," Sharrkan slurs happily at his friend, plonking himself down beside the bigger man heavily, sitting much too close, "you enjoying yourself? S'good isn' it?"

Masrur nods, not reacting to the hand placed on his leg to steady it's owner. Sharrkan lays his cheek on Masrur's shoulder, grinning up at him as his vision swims a little. Ah, so it's going to be one of _those_ nights where Sharrkan seemingly can't keep his entire person away from anyone.

"Those women I was with," Sharrkan continues loudly, "they left with Alibaba. I gave them to 'im," he puffs out his chest as if he has committed an act of great charity, "he needs 'em more n' I do, y'know? Poor kid, all talk and no play, if you get me. He seems really unlucky with the ladies."

Masrur nods again, not entirely sure where this is going, and equally not entirely sure if Sharrkan knows either. He opts for keeping his mouth shut for now, lest he say something stupid and _drunk_. He thinks he's got a good hold of himself, but it's better to be safe than sorry.

"Not like me," Sharrkan grins, lurching forwards much faster than he means to and settling his elbows on Masrur's thigh as he sits on the floor now; it's easier to look at the Fanalis man this way, he reasons, "I know what to do and how a woman likes to be treated, you get me? 'Course you do Mas, you get me well."

Masrur's not confident he does.

"What 'bout you man?" Sharrkan pushes him lightly in the stomach and Masrur barely feels a thing. "You need a hand getting a few women? They'll do anything you want so don't worry 'bout that."

"No," he says, ignoring the way Sharrkan now lays the side of his face on the top of his thigh and concentrating on _speaking,_ "I don't want women."

"What, tonight?"

"No, ever."

Women, Masrur has found, are frightened of his sheer size and strength, and his stoic appearance probably doesn't help things either. He doesn't concern himself with such things now after learning the hard way when he was a teenager - pleading you'll be gentle and then bruising her like _that_ , despite how hard you had tried to be good, apparently suggests to other women that you are not one to go to bed with.

Sharrkan, however, takes it the wrong way. "Since when are you gay?"

Masrur frowns a little at him, wondering how he came to that conclusion. "I didn't say I was."

"Because that's fine with me, man," Sharrkan slurs happily, raising his drink to his friend as he sits up straight now beside Masrur on the floor, "whatever floats your boat, makes you happy, ain't got shit to do with me."

"You're talking like a fool, Sharrkan."

It was intended to _inform_ , not to _insult_.

"Am not," Sharrkan replies stupidly. He downs the rest of his wine and sets the goblet on the floor heavily before drawing himself up and perching on Masrur's lap, linking his fingers behind his neck. Masrur swallows thickly; this is not good. He's well accustomed to Sharrkan's drunken need to climb on everyone within reach, but that doesn't mean to say he's comfortable with the man doing it to him, especially when they're surrounded by just about every adult in Sindria. Sharrkan, with all his smooth grace (when not stinking drunk), his taut muscles and those tantalisingly bare shoulders, should not be allowed to _sit_ on people, Masrur thinks.

"When was the las' time you had sex, Mas?"

He honestly can't remember, and that saddens him a little. Even when he has been alone with women in foreign countries on their travels, they never want him to actually fuck them due to his size. He's used to it now, used to them giving him a handjob and declining any form of pleasure for themselves once they feel his many muscles, the size of his cock and mistake his narrowed eyes for those of a man they should not open themselves up to.

"I don't know."

"Like, a week ago? A month? Gimme an estimate."

"Why do you even want to know this?"

Maybe the drink is slowing him down, but Masrur can't fathom where Sharrkan is going with this. If he had just come here to gloat, then he was going to leave with a punch or two.

"I'm _interested_ ," the Heliohapt man grins, his face much too close as he sways, eyes lidded, "because you're the only fucker here I can't figure out. Ja'far doesn't shout 'is mouth off about 'is bedroom life, but Sin does it for him, the poor bastard. Pisti is a dirty little whore. Spartos is celibate. Hinahoho, one can only imagine, and Drakon has 'is wife. Yamuraiha can't get any," he finishes with a hearty laugh at the female general's misfortune, "she needs to go man-hunting with Pisti. But _you_ , my friend, _you_ keep everything way too quiet. Even Sin hasn't got anything to tell us about you when he's drunk in a gutter."

Masrur can't help but feel pleased about this. The gold chain around Sharrkan's throat glitters in the fire light and he starts to feel a little light-headed.

Suddenly Sharrkan is shifting in his lap, moving to straddle him instead on sitting side-saddle, his tanned limber legs draping over the Fanalis' powerful ones as he keeps his hands locked behind Masrur's head, a playful smile on his lips.

And suddenly, it all clicks much later than it really should have, and Masrur can't help but place his hands on the shorter man's hips, holding him steady in his drunken haze.

"All the good-looking women are gone," Sharrkan says breathily, one hand snaking up into the Fanalis' short hair, his mouth going to an ear, "and you look like you'd be a good fuck, Mas. I've always thought so." He groans lightly as he rolls his hips atop of the other general's, rubbing their slowly hardening cocks together and feeling Masrur's shoulders stiffen at the sensation. "I get fucking horny when I drink, as you probably know. You've not fucked someone for a while, have you?"

His throat is dry and his tongue feels foreign in his mouth. Of course he knew full well what Sharrkan was like when intoxicated, all the more reason to kick himself for not seeing this coming sooner. He holds in a groan of his own as Sharrkan grinds against him again; it really has been too long. "I don't want to take advantage."

Sharrkan snorts loudly and pulls back to look him in the face. " _Take advantage_?" He asks incredulously. "You wouldn't be taking advantage, you idiot. I may be drunk as shit but I'm no quivering woman, Mas. If you don't want this then jus' say, I won't take offense and I'll leave you in peace."

Ah, but Sharrkan already feels too good in his hands, on his lap, for him to even contemplate telling him to go away. Why would he want to do that? He can't remember already.

"Not here, then," he says quietly, tightening his grip on Sharrkan's hips momentarily before letting go entirely, "not where people can see."

Sharrkan laughs lightly and clambers off his lap with as little grace as an elephant, taking his hand in his own as he straightens up.

"'Course not," he grins, "as if I'd want to put on a show out here. No, let's go to your room, on the ground floor, no stairs." He cannot get his sentences quite right anymore, but he doesn't care as he staggers off with the other general in hand, waving goodbye merrily to Aladdin and Morgiana, who are blissfully ignorant to what was going to happen.

They manage to reach Masrur's room with relative ease, despite Sharrkan's newly found habit of trying to suck on the Fanalis' fingers all the way there. With a crash they're inside, wrapped around each other so tightly they may as well have merged, Sharrkan's tongue in Masrur's mouth faster than he can recall ever acting with someone; their need is too great for formalities tonight. Sharrkan tastes like fine wine against his tongue and he loves it.

"How do you want to do this?" Masrur asks as Sharrkan tugs at his armor, apparently under the impression that the harder he pulls the more likely it is to come off. "Here, let me do it."

"Don't care," Sharrkan huffs out, instead stripping himself of his clothes as Masrur undresses himself, "you can fuck me if you like, haven't done that in a while."

"If this is pity sex, then-"

"Please don't insult yourself, Mas."

He goes silent, following the white haired man to his bed, his nerves alive with anticipation and worries of _will it even fit_. If Sharrkan hasn't taken it in a while, then getting it in will be all the more hard considering his large length and girth.

"Do you have some kind of lubricant? It won't go in without it."

Sharrkan raises an eyebrow at him. "Mas, this is _your room_. Why the fuck would I have lube in here?"

Right, thinking before speaking was still a thing he needed to do.

"I have hand cream, is that OK?"

Sharrkan can't help but snort as he lies back on the plush mattress, spreading his legs wide in a most alluring manner, ready and eager to accept the other man. "Hand cream? You?"

Masrur fails to see the humour in that statement. "Yamuraiha gave it to me. I get dry hands." He has never had the heart to tell the magician that the little ornate hand cream container lies collecting dust on his window sill, all but completely forgotten until now.

"Sure, sure, princess Fanalis," Sharrkan laughs at the absurdity of the nickname as Masrur joins him on the bed again after retrieving the cream from the other side of the room, "hurry up and get between my legs, god knows you'll look good there."

Masrur does as he's told, palms sliding up the insides of Sharrkan's thighs, thumbs stopping just short of the dripping hard cock between them. It's been such a long time since he's been with a man, but he doesn't stop to think, doesn't stop to ask what Sharrkan wants or what he likes; the Fanalis licks at the weeping head of the other general's cock and oh, _god_ , the noise Sharrkan makes and the way he arches up in his need to feel more just isn't _fair_. It's almost obscene how Sharrkan spreads his legs wider and threads the fingers of one hand into Masrur's hair again, silently urging him to do it again, do more, anything more, anything at all so long as he gets his cock in that delicious mouth.

Masrur obliges.

He sucks the Heliohapt man's cock in slowly, hands on the backs of his tan thighs now to prevent Sharrkan from slamming them shut on his head in pleasure; Sharrkan bucks into that wet, warm tunnel, his eyes rolling back and his mouth dropping open as Masrur sucks on him in ernest, bobbing his head along his length, pressing his tongue against the underside hard before stopping at the head to lave his tongue over it, lapping at the precome that beads there as if he _loves_ it.

"H-How are you so good at this?" Sharrkan moans as Masrur goes back down on him, and he has to clamp a hand to his mouth when Masrur releases one of his legs to fondle his balls now too. It shouldn't feel this good so soon, shouldn't be so sinfully divine in the other man's mouth, but the feel of it coupled with the obscene sucking sounds Masrur is making is almost too much for him.

Honestly, Masrur doesn't know if he's good or not, but the compliment isn't missed despite the fact he can't reply when his mouth is filled with cock. He glances up at Sharrkan's face and he actually _does_ groan now, the swordsman's look of deep arousal going straight to his cock.

This isn't going to last long and they can both feel it.

Masrur releases the other general's cock with a soft pop (much to Sharrkan's dismay), and begins covering his fingers with the hand cream beside him. He's so hard, so damn in need of fucking the gorgeous body beneath him that he can't remember why he thought going without sex for so long was no great loss.

He just about has the presence of mind to warn Sharrkan about what he's going to do. "I'm going to put a finger in," he says, his voice ragged with lust as he rubs his middle finger over the tight hole slowly, letting Sharrkan get used to the feel of it.

"Hurry up," Sharrkan whispers, not sure if he wants Masrur to hear him or not. Damn, he might actually lose himself to just a single finger at this rate; he'd had his cock sucked by plenty of women and the odd man, but with Masrur it had effected him worse than those before him. Dimly, he was aware that it was probably because the people before had been nobodies to him, just warm bodies to rut into for a night, whereas Masrur was someone that he actually cared about, was attracted to on a deeper level than 'hey he's good looking'.

He hisses at that initial burning stretch of Masrur's thick finger breaching him, his muscles instinctively clenching down on the intruding digit, bunching tight and making it all the more difficult. Damn, it _has_ been a long time. He reaches out and holds onto the bigger man's shoulders for support, gasping in pain as Masrur starts to gently slide his finger out and then back in again, wriggling beneath him and spreading his legs that little bit wider to try and lessen the stretch, but to no avail.

Masrur can see his friend is in pain and stops, horribly aware that he has a _finger inside Sharrkan_ and that Sharrkan is hurting and he has to stop that. "Do you want me to stop?" He asks, butting his forehead against Sharrkan's tanned one lightly, far too affectionately. "You're hurting."

Affection isn't what Sharrkan needs right now.

"No," Sharrkan grinds out, writhing beneath him, trying to find it, that one delicious spot that he _knows_ is inside him if he can just find it, "try curling your finger back in on itself, yeah, that's- _ahh_!"

Sharrkan can't stop the arching of his back anymore than he can stop the moan escaping his lips as Masrur presses against his prostate, his hips rolling down onto the finger within him eagerly, his vision going momentarily white with pleasure. Oh, _that_ hasn't been touched in a while.

"That's it," he moans breathily, "right there, focus on there when you- feels so _good_ , Mas, god, keep doing it just like that."

Again Masrur does as he's told, rubbing at that spot within his friend as gently as he can manage, trying _so_ hard not to hurt him more than possible in this situation, watching Sharrkan's face with lidded eyes as the tanned man squirms on his finger, moaning and gasping and being _far_ too enticing for his own good.

Perhaps he is gay, he thinks for a fraction of a second as his cock pulses and throbs as Sharrkan's nails drag down his forearms, perhaps he should seek out the company of men more often if they're anything like Sharrkan; delicious, alluring and _so fucking hot_ , riding a single finger like he needs nothing else in the world.

Slowly, carefully, biting his lip in concentration to be _gentle_ , Masrur slides another finger into the white haired man and oh, that's so much easier to maneuver inside now, no longer feels like he's going to lose a finger to the tight, soft heat of the general as he's stretched open that little bit more. He lets go of the leg he was still holding open, trusting Sharrkan to keep both dark legs spread by himself now, and he runs a finger over the impossibly tight stretch of Sharrkan's hole, his breath hitching in his chest as he _feels_ the other man accepting him in so eagerly, so needily.

Fuck, if he had been just a little bit younger, Masrur is sure he would have come just from that.

"You feel really good," he mumbles, trailing his hand up Sharrkan's body now, caressing his hip, his stomach, his nipple on his way up, "I had no idea."

Sharrkan is panting and writhing all the more now and actually _cries out_ when a third finger is eased in. It's too much, too much of a stretch for someone who's not accustomed to this, but he doesn't dislike it, would even go as far to say that he would want to do this again and very soon. The white-hot pleasure he gets from being touched so perfectly inside is plenty enough to compensate for the ache of being stretched out.

"We should have done this ages ago," Sharrkan all but whines, wrapping his legs around Masrur's big waist and pulling him in hard, desperate for him, "I _knew_ you'd be good, Mas." His head swims pleasantly from both the alcohol and sexual hunger as Masrur nips at his collarbone now, sucking hard and biting just hard enough to mark, but not enough to break the skin. No one ever handles him like this, marking him up where anyone could see, always believing his skin to be too beautiful to mar. Oh, how he wishes he'd told them otherwise in the past.

Masrur catches Sharrkan's hand in his own as the heliohapt reaches for the gold chain around his throat, intent on taking it off so that the Fanalis can bite and suck at his neck too. "No," Masrur murmurs, his voice low and rumbling with desire, his eyes clearly dark with lust even in the dimly moonlit room, "leave it on. I like it."

" _Oh,_ " the other general grins at his friend now, bucking his hips up and _shit_ he can _feel_ how rock-hard Masrur is above him, "you like a bit of bondage do you, Mas? Bit of erotic asphyxiation? You wanna choke me as you fuck me hard?" He rolls his hips down into the Fanalis' touch hard, inhaling sharply as he's rubbed perfectly once again. The look of unbridled lust in the man above him is exactly what he'd been hoping for, and is sure that his own hungry expression matches. "You wanna watch me struggle for breath, be _broken_ by you? Can you imagine it, how I'd look?"

He can, so clearly that he's beginning to worry about his sanity. Yes, a thousand times yes, he's thought about it in passing occasionally, wondering whether Sharrkan has ever done it before, whether his chain could serve a purpose like that or not.

Clearly, it can.

He's a much bigger pervert than he'd ever thought he was, apparently.

He nods once. "If you let me do that," Masrur says, his breath heavy as he slowly slides his slick fingers out of the other man now, wiping them quickly on his bedcovers, "then you'll have to make it clear how much you can take. I could actually kill you, Sharrkan."

"Don't care, just want you to do it."

That really doesn't help.

As if it has been silently communicated, Sharrkan scrabbles onto his hands and knees as Masrur lathers hand cream onto his cock, willing his thighs to stop shaking as he lines himself up, sliding slick and sticky up the cleft of the smaller man's ass, taking hold of his hips and exhaling slowly, willing himself to calm down, to remember to go slow, to not hurt his friend if he can help it.

Sharrkan has very different ideas.

Too long has it been since he's had a decent fuck, since he's been able to lose himself to pleasure and know that he's going to feel completely sated and exhausted by the end of the night. Women, he had discovered early on into his teenage years, were not the best choices for partners when in need of a good, _hard_ fuck, such as the kind he often found himself needing after drinking too much. They didn't like to be bruised, pulled around or slammed into. They liked soft-spoken words, gentle touches and kisses, all of which Sharrkan isn't always ready to provide.

"Oi, come on Mas, put it in before I get too old," he whines in need, rocking back and feeling the head of that big, thick cock press against his entrance, "let me feel you."

The chain around his neck catches in the moonlight, and coherent thought all but leaves the Fanalis man as desire begins to take over.

He does as he's instructed, holding onto Sharrkan's hips tight enough to bruise as he pushes in slowly, grunting in the effort of not just slamming into the smaller body and fucking him for all he's worth. But _shit_ , Sharrkan is tight, so _fucking tight_ around the head of his cock as he pushes it in, his brow furrowing and sweat beading there as he steadies himself.

Sharrkan's head lolls forwards and his legs spread wider as he tries to lessen the intense ache and burn; Masrur feels a hundred times bigger inside him than out, and _shit_ , that's just not on, he can't take it but he wants to, has to, has to get past the pain in order to get to the body-wracking pleasure he _knows_ is going to follow. He pushes back with his knees, a low whine issuing from his clenched mouth as he sinks further onto that impossibly thick cock, thanking every single djinn he can think of that Masrur had prepared him well beforehand, because he is sure he would have ripped in half by now if not.

"Are you OK?" Masrur asks, not stopping despite voicing his concerns, sliding slowly into Sharrkan still, leaning over him and planting an open-mouthed kiss to the space in-between his shoulder blades. "Should I go slower?"

"If you go any slower I'll kill you, mate."

Ah.

With one smooth, fluid motion he's slid all the way in, fully seated inside Sharrkan as he feels the man's muscles clench ridiculously hard, twitching for all they're worth around the thick member, and Masrur cannot suppress the groan that climbs up his throat. Sharrkan feels _too good_ , too soft and warm and squeezing him and oh god so _tight_. His cock throbs hard as Sharrkan moans too, arching his back once more, white hair messy at the back from where he had been writhing into the pillows. No, his friend is _not_ meant to look this delicious.

He starts slowly despite Sharrkan's previous warning, pulling out and thrusting back in again in one movement, shuddering hard as he finds himself seated to the root inside the other general again. His brain conveniently shuts off and suddenly he cannot stop himself from thrusting into Sharrkan hard, pulling him back onto his cock each time, the sounds of their balls slapping together filling the room along with Sharrkan's arousingly loud moans and whines and _mewls_ of ' _oh, Mas_.'

It just isn't _fair_ on the heliohapt when he feels Masrur tug on the chain around his neck lightly, testing him out, gauging how hard he can take it.

"Feels good," he pants, looking back at the Fanalis and revelling in the wild look in his eyes at the power he's been granted, "feels good getting fucked so hard by you, Mas. You- you can pull it harder than that, it ain't gonna snap-" his eyes roll back and he whimpers as Masrur hits _that_ spot inside him at such an angle that he sees stars. "S'good," he moans like a common whore, rocking back hard to meet Masrur's hips eagerly, obscenely, "way too good, I'm gonna come soon, just- put your hand on my- on my cock, Mas, jerk me off-"

He almost comes right then as he feels that big hand enclose around his tight, almost achingly hard cock, pumping him in time with the Fanalis' thrusts and fuck him to hell and back he is not letting this be a one time thing, not when Masrur stretches him open so sickeningly wide, rubs him so perfectly inside, makes his body feel like it's on _fire_.

He can tell Masrur feels the same by the way he pulls at that gold chain, pulling him back so his spine is a taut bow, the angle making the the cock inside him strike him that much deeper, that much harder that he almost doesn't register that he can barely breathe now. Sharrkan tries breathing but can't get the oxygen that he needs, yet he fights every nerve in his body crying for him to rip Masrur's hand away; all too suddenly, with no warning at all he's coming harder than he ever remembers coming before, no sound escaping him as he is choked, his body trembling violently as he comes all over the bedsheets under him, his vision going black at the edges but not caring at this point and _shit god fucking hell this must be what heaven feels like_.

Masrur feels Sharrkan's orgasm rather than sees it, his hand slick with the tanned man's come as he lets go now, placing his hand open-palmed on Sharrkan's back to steady himself, his face alive with raw hunger as he feels himself pulse, giving the gold chain in his fingers an extra pull as he releases inside the other general, burying himself deep, so impossibly _deep_ , his breath coming out in short, sharp gasps, his nerves alive with ecstasy as he _lets go_. _Why_ had he ever thought it OK to not fuck anyone?

He pulls out slowly, noting how Sharrkan winces as he does, and flops gracelessly down beside the heliohapt with a content grunt. "That was..." he starts to say, but words seem to be failing him and he can't choose between amazing, incredible, exceptional and a vast array of other colourful words he doesn't often use. Sharrkan chuckles and flings an arm over his broad chest, apparently not caring that he's lying in his own come or that Masrur's is trickling steadily down his legs; baths can apparently wait.

"Yeah," he agrees happily, his voice a little hoarse, his body aching all over and he knows he's going to feel it in the morning when he wakes up, knows his neck is going to be lovely shades of purple and red and _that_ will be fun to explain away, "really." What it 'really' was neither knew, and yet at the same time understood exactly. He snuggles in close, breathing in the mixture of the other man's sweat and alcohol as he does. "Mind if I sleep here tonight? My room's like... Too far away for me in this state. Wanna sleep."

Masrur shifts so that his arm is under Sharrkan's head, wrapping around his shoulders as the white haired man lays his face to the bigger man's chest, sighing in content. "I don't mind," he says quietly; he can feel sleep creeping up on him (more like sprinting, he thinks) and his eyelids are heavy after their short workout. "Let's do that again."

Sharrkan laughs, grabbing for the corner of the bedcover and pulling it around them, wrapping them up in some kind of cocoon. "Definitely," he agrees, "maybe next time I'll tie you up to the headboard and ride you hard."

Masrur smiles a rare smile, nestling his face into Sharrkan's soft hair. That would be nice...


	2. Chapter 2

Light fills the room, streaming in from the uncovered glassless windows, bathing everything in the humid heat that is usually associated with midday rather than early morning, the time when the generals are supposed to wake. Masrur twitches as a sunbeam falls on his face, waking him with a start, and immediately he recognises that something is very different today.

First off, it's the fact that he's managed to sleep well past the time that Ja'far sees fit for him to lie in without having the man personally come to see why he's not up yet. Secondly, it's that he's in his bedroom rather than out in Sindria's forests. Thirdly, it's that Sharrkan is between his legs, naked, hair obviously washed from the way its flat on top and glistening in the sunlight.

"Morning," Sharrkan grins, his palms firm on the top of Masrur's thighs as the bigger man just looks at him, speechless - Sharrkan is still here, he had consciously chosen to stay with him even after waking. A thrill of warmth courses up Masrur's spine as Sharrkan continues. "You're up late, aren't you? I've been awake for hours; your snoring did the trick. I used your bathroom by the way; I threw up and then had a bath. Alcohol doesn't agree with me the morning after, y'see. Oh but don't worry, I've cleaned my teeth since - I used your toothbrush, sorry."

_Delightful._

Well there goes his warm feeling.

"I didn't need to know that," Masrur says, his eyes narrowing slightly as the other general's grip on his thighs tightened, squeezing him gently, "you could have just left out the part about you being sick." At least now he doesn't need to worry about nursing a hungover general back to health, he supposes.

Hands slide up his legs now, their pace slow as tanned thumbs press into his skin deliciously. They come to a halt at his hips, the thumbs pressing small circles into the jutting out bones there. Sharrkan smirks, his eyes lidded, his expression far too sexy for the words he says. "Hey, I'm just letting you know; no harm in that, right?" Masrur's hips twitch up involuntarily as Sharrkan leans forward, laying a slow kiss to the inside of where his right thigh joins his groin. He sucks lightly on the skin, nipping at it before laving his tongue over the area, enjoying the ripple of arousal of that shudders through the Fanalist.

There's no denying that even when entirely sober, Masrur finds Sharrkan impossibly attractive and enticing; after their tryst the night before, he has absolutely no problems admitting that much to himself now. The sunlight catches the well-defined curves of the white haired man's shoulders and the length of his exposed back as he presses more suckling kisses to the inside of Masrur's thigh.

Something's slightly off, though. He's aware of it even as warmth spreads to every nerve in his body, responding to Sharrkan's mouth dragging over the sensitive skin of his thigh.

"Are we going to do it again?" He asks, getting straight to the point. Sharrkan snorts at his lack of tact.

"So charming, Mas," he says, moving away from his thigh now; he sits up a little, eyeing Masrur's slowly hardening cock before running a single finger up the long shaft, earning a twitch from it's owner. "Yeah, we're gonna do it again, if you're up for it; that's what I was aiming for, in case you couldn't tell."

"Are we not going to talk about what happened last night first?" Masrur asks, a certain shy edge to his tone, as if he's not sure if he wants to hear the answer, despite the fact that Sharrkan is very much naked and touching his cock. "I didn't hurt you, did I? Are you OK?" He catches sight of the bruised column of neck, devoid of the golden chain from last night, and he barely stops himself from wincing at the sight. "Your neck's bruised."

Sharrkan sighs lightly through his nose, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He's not used to Masrur being openly concerned about him, but seeing as it was actually _him_ who inflicted all of his injuries, he guesses its pretty normal for the bigger man to voice his worries. "Yeah, it's bruised," he says calmly, the fingers at Masrur's member never halting in their gentle strokes up and down, "but have you seen your own? You've got your own fair share of love bites, y'know. As for last night, I don't know why you're fretting like that; _I came on to you_. I knew what I was doing, I can remember everything that happened, and it was fucking _good_. You know I've wanted to sleep with you for ages - I just never had the balls to address it. Getting drunk was just a good excuse to get the courage to climb all over you, so calm down and stop thinking about it."

Masrur is suitably silenced as Sharrkan lowers his head now, replacing his fingers with his tongue and licking a long, hard line up the now fully erect cock. Masrur's fingers slide into his still damp hair as he does it again and again, lapping at the large member eagerly as if he could do it forever, pausing to suckle at the thick vein on the underside occasionally. Masrur doesn't bother holding back the deep, guttural groan that issues from his mouth at the divine feeling of Sharrkan's tongue on him; his hips roll up into the wet pressure, wanting to feel himself in that warm mouth, wanting to bury himself so _deep_ that Sharrkan can do nothing more than swallow him whole.

If he doesn't keep a tight control on his lust, he might just actually injure his friend this time round - the very thought should worry him, but the feel of the other general's lips encircling the head of his cock is plenty enough to banish his concerns.

Those ones, anyway.

"Don't," he grunts, despite how much he wants him to do it, his hands sliding down to Sharrkan's shoulders as he sits up as best he can, "I'm too big, I'll choke you."

"Listen," Sharrkan says shortly, holding him by the base of his erection and squeezing just a _little_ too hard, "if you can fit in my ass, you can definitely fit in my mouth. You gave me the best head I've had for a while last night, and I want to return the favour for you. I don't suck cock, just so you know, so consider yourself privileged."

Common sense tells him to hold his tongue, but Masrur can't help but say, "does that mean you've not done it before?"

Sharrkan balks. "Of _course_ I have!" He frowns, although the blush that dapples his tanned cheeks suggest he's not being entirely truthful, "now stop it, unless you want me to bite your dick off."

"Sorry."

He lays back down, his legs spreading a little wider to better accommodate the man between them as Sharrkan tentatively licks at his sensitive underside again, pressing a light kiss to it before sweeping his tongue over the slit of the head, getting his first taste of Masrur's precome. He swallows the droplets, not finding himself entirely fond of the salty taste; did he taste like this too? If so, how did Masrur act like it was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted last night?

Slowly, with one hand pressed flat against Masrur's hard stomach and the other gripping the base of his cock, Sharrkan sucks him in again, bobbing along the length at an agonisingly slow pace as he accustoms himself to the texture, weight and flavour. The moan he draws out of the usually quiet Fanalist is all the reward he needs, and the fuel he requires to suck that little bit harder, to go that little bit quicker.

Masrur's fingers lace through those damp strands once again as Sharrkan works him over; it feels incredible, quite unlike anything he was expecting to experience that morning, and those soft sucking sounds mixed with the odd little moan issuing from the man are just _far_ too erotic to be real. It's the first blowjob he's had in _years_ , and although Sharrkan is borderline sloppy and already trying to take him faster than he's ready to, it feels so amazing, so intensely mind-blowing to be sucked on by someone like his senior.

The sensation of Sharrkan's fingers gently cupping his sac makes him jerk up into that hot mouth around him, his brow furrowing in concentration to not do it again when Sharrkan's body convulses as he gags on the length hitting the back of his throat. He lets out a shaky groan as he's fondled as well as sucked, unable to help the way he pushes on the back of Sharrkan's head now, guiding him down a little rougher than before, careful to not push too hard lest he chokes him again.

The pressure to the base of his cock increases, and with a sharp intake of breath Masrur feels his senior's nose press into the coarse hair above his cock, deep-throating him. He raises himself up on his elbows and watches now, watches how Sharrkan's lips are pulled tight around his girth, how he takes him in all the way to the root with a hard swallow, tears springing to the corners of his closed eyes as his gag-reflex is assaulted but forced not to react.

That alone is enough to make his eyes roll back in his head and moan loudly, his balls tightening as he feels himself pushed close to his limit.

He's not particularly surprised to find himself so close already, really.

"Fuck, Sharrkan, stop," he grinds out, hating himself for saying it but not wanting it all to end so soon, "stop it."

Sharrkan releases him with a hard suck and a swirl of his tongue against the head of his cock; he sits up on his knees, wiping at the drool that had escaped down the side of his mouth as he admires his handiwork. Masrur's cock stands to attention, flushed dark from his ministrations while the man himself is visibly aroused, eyeing him like he's something succulent waiting to be devoured.

Without saying a word Sharrkan slides up against him, their hard cocks rubbing together as their chests are pressed flush together, both men slightly breathless already. Masrur ruts up into Sharrkan's hips and sparks of pleasure shoot through them both; he grips the Heliohaptian by the hips and grinds him down into him, gasping against his neck at the feel of it. Sharrkan feels just as incredible in his hands this morning as he did last night, his taut body still so captivating, his mouth sinfully hot against his own as they kiss for the first time that morning, their tongues immediately caught up in a fiercely passionate dance for dominance.

It really is absurd that they haven't done this before the night before; Sharrkan hasn't been the only one who's wanted it for a long time. For Masrur, at least, his excuse for avoiding this kind of relationship with the tanned man lies in Yamuraiha; he is sure, so completely confident in thinking that she and Sharrkan liked each other that he has never wanted to get in the middle of that, instead settling for winding up his senior and taking advantage of his gullible nature wherever possible as his way of being close to him. He knows what buttons to best press to get the best reaction out of the swordsman, and he would always do what he could to keep him close, keep them together.

But now, with Sharrkan in his arms, pressed against his body so hard that they may as well be melding into one person, he's not so sure he's read the man's relationship with the magician correctly after all. Maybe they shared nothing more than sibling-like rivalry, as Hinahoho had suggested once, after all.

But now is not the time to be thinking about that.

With a final suck on Masrur's lower lip, Sharrkan pulls himself away and sits up, straddling the Fanalist's hips in a highly suggestive manner, grinning lewdly at him.

"You know that thing I said last night about riding you?" He asks, earning a vigorous nod from the other man. "How about we do it now?"

Masrur closes his eyes briefly, thanking any and every deity that this is happening to him. He had been dubious about this ever happening again, if he was honest with himself, working under the assumption that Sharrkan would have lost his nerve after becoming sober again.

He has never been happier to be so wrong in his life.

And if that's not enough for him, Sharrkan adds to it immediately; two tanned fingers slide into his own mouth, his tongue working over them quickly as he moans quietly around the intruding digits for Masrur's benefit, coating them in saliva before he removes them and presses one to his own entrance, all the while still on top of Masrur. A naughty grin stretches his lips as he rubs back and forth over his tight hole, relishing in the way Masrur's eyes widen slightly and his cock twitches _hard_ under him.

"Something wrong?" He asks lightly, knowing perfectly well what was _wrong_ , if it could be described as such.

Masrur swallows thickly, unable to tear his gaze away from the sight in front of him. He shakes his head, mumbling, "no," as he does. It should be _him_ doing that, _him_ feeling that soft, tight ring of muscle yield to him and allow him entrance into that burning hot body.

However, this is too good a show to tell his friend to stop and let him take over.

With a self-satisfied smile Sharrkan lays a hand on Masrur's stomach, steadying himself as he breaches himself, pushing one finger in slowly. It burns, hurts just like the night before as his muscles clamp around him obscenely hard, but this time he's got total control over how fast and what angle it moves at; it's with a shuddering breath that he pushes harder into himself, curling the single digit in search of _that_ spot. With a jerk of his hips he finds it, pressing hard against it and moaning loudly, unable to stop himself as white-hot pleasure rockets up his spine and consumes his brain.

"Oh, _god_ ," Sharrkan moans, fucking himself with a single finger, moving it inside himself harder and harder as precome beads at the head of his cock, "Mas, I need you inside me _so bad_."

He should _not_ have said that.

As Sharrkan slowly presses the second finger in Masrur has to bite the inside of his cheek so hard that he almost bites it _off_ \- fuck Sharrkan for being so _hot_ like that. He squirms below him, growling out, "get on with it then." Sharrkan laughs lightly, sweat beading on his brow as he works himself open, scissoring his fingers as best he can at his angle. He wants to just slam himself on that huge cock right now, feel it push impossibly slowly up inside his body before hammering into him with all the force of the Fanalist behind it, but he knows better than to rush this.

"Patience," he whispers, rolling his hips forward, his cock _just_ dragging along Masrur's, raising a pained moan from within him, "I don't want you tearing my asshole open."

He presses a third finger in at last, finding it easier to slide in and out now that he's getting used to the feel; the only thing distracting him is Masrur's lustful watch and the way he's chewing on his piercing from the inside. Heat pools in the pit of Sharrkan's groin as he watches, fingers frantically stroking at his prostate - he gasps and twitches his hips forward when Masrur curls a large hand around his dripping cock, running his thumb over his slit and spreading the sticky liquid there over himself.

" _Shit_ ," Sharrkan gasps, arching into Masrur's hold, his thighs trembling at the double stimulation he's subjected to so suddenly, "feels good, Mas, please, _please_ , let's do this all the time, everyday, _please_."

Before Masrur can answer Sharrkan's removed his fingers and is grabbing at the Fanalist's cock, guiding it to his entrance eagerly. A thrill of excitement runs through both of them; in this position they can see each other clearly, unlike the night before. It's a little more sensual this time round, more befitting of their sober states.

Despite Sharrkan's somewhat hasty preparation, there is still a fair bit of resistance as Masrur slides into him, pushing in somewhat harder than he would have liked to. He grips Sharrkan's hips as hard as he dares to, once again struggling to keep his inhumane strength at bay as Sharrkan writhes on top of him, a pained groan leaving him as he sinks onto that long, _thick_ length, spreading his legs that little bit wider around the other general's hips to alleviate the pain as best he can.

It feels like he's being sucked in, like Sharrkan's body itself needs him in it more than anything, and he submits to the feeling.

Sharrkan is soft, hot and tight inside, tighter than the night before if Masrur remembers correctly, their position not allowing him to be as open this time; Masrur can't bring himself to honestly _care,_ not when he's constricted just _so_ inside by the lithe man's muscles. He thrusts up into the tanned man, fully seating himself before dropping his hips a little faster than he would have liked, Sharrkan rising on his knees as he does. The action draws deep, guttural moans from the pair of them as they repeat, Sharrkan keeping himself balanced by spreading his hands over Masrur's stomach once again. He arches his back, making the cock inside him rub him just right, and Sharrkan sees stars, the pain all but subsiding into something much more manageable.

"Right there," he breathes, picking up the pace as he fucks himself on the younger man's erection, his eyes rolling back at the impossibly delicious feel of being _taken_ like that, "that's it there Mas, aim there."

He doesn't need telling twice.

Masrur guides him down onto his cock, his breath short and sharp as Sharrkan's head drops back at the feel of him within his body, and it's all he can do to not lose it there and then.

Sharrkan's stretched obscenely wide, reveling in the feel of it and _shit_ shouldn't he be embarrassed, riding another man so needily like this? He doesn't care right now, though.

Small, eager whimpers issue from him as he feels his thighs quiver from the strain of repeatedly rising and falling so quickly.

With a tug of his hair he's guided down over Masrur's body and pulled into a searing kiss, the Fanalist's tongue pressed in immediately and encouraging his own into play, not that he needs it. His body spasms as he's kissed thoroughly at the same time as Masrur rubs against his prostate with a well aimed thrust, making his vision go white. He groans into the bigger man's mouth, shuddering as his body goes weak, allowing himself to be rocked atop of Masrur's cock as Masrur pleases, pulling his hips down to meet his own at a fast pace.

It starts feeling too good, far too good far too soon, and Sharrkan sits back up again, palming his own cock as he whines in need. He's never been stretched so obscenely wide in all his life, has never ridden another man and felt _good_ while doing it before, either. No one has ever filled him up like this, has reduced him to a quivering mess of over-stimulated nerves, like the Fanalist.

"You make me so hard," he grinds out, slamming his hips down with almost bruising force, raising a breathy groan from Masrur, "you're so fucking _fit_ and you have no idea. I could gladly get fucked by you all day, Mas."

Coherent words are beyond him at this point, but Masrur wholeheartedly agrees with the other general.

It's with a cry, a _scream_ of pleasure that Sharrkan comes, his orgasm thundering through his body as he spills over Masrur's stomach and chest, his legs locking and trembling under the intensity he's subjected to. He jerks into his fist around his cock, milking himself of his last few drops as he whines at the feel of Masrur pounding his ass harder now, desperate to reach his own end now that his partner has come.

With a squeak that he'll deny for the rest of his life, Sharrkan finds himself rolled over onto his back, his legs spread and held up by the ankles as Masrur thrusts into him impossibly hard, barely having the presence of mind to not cross the point of seriously hurting his friend. He writhes there into the pillows, moaning in protest as well as heightened pleasure as his senses are completely overloaded.

"Don't come inside," Sharrkan says suddenly, grabbing around Masrur's neck and hauling him close, almost bending himself in half at the process, "I've already had a bath, Mas, I don't want another."

It's with an apologetic look that Masrur loses himself, closing his eyes soon after to the intense orgasm that rips through him and fills Sharrkan. He is deaf to Sharrkan's irritated sigh, his entire body singing with the buzz of his climax as he thrusts shallowly into the other general's body, the way he's being squeezed _not_ helping him finish.

With a huge sigh he collapses to the side of Sharrkan, face-first into a pillow. Sharrkan gives him a moment to regain himself before saying quietly, "you came inside."

"Yeah. Sorry."

"It's running down my leg and onto your bed, Mas."

"You didn't give me enough warning."

That much is true.

They fall silent for a couple of minutes, Sharrkan watching Masrur and Masrur just lying there, unmoving, fighting off sleep again as it threatens to take over his body.

Suddenly, Sharrkan hauls himself up, wincing at the pain in his ass. He runs his fingers through Masrur's short hair, fluffing it up at the back before stroking it down flat again.

"Shall we go have a bath together, then?"

He perks up at this and sits up, coming face to face with the other general. Masrur relaxes at the expression on his face; Sharrkan's smiling gently, looking wornout but thoroughly sated. Hesitantly, slowly, the Fanalist leans in, tilting his head slightly as he presses a kiss to the Heliohaptian's lips, warmth flooding his body as Sharrkan kisses him back. He cups the tanned man's face in his large hands, laying their foreheads together as he breaks the kiss. He can't explain it, but the notion of doing something intimate with the other man without it being sexual made him feel...

_Happy._

* * *

"I'm telling you, they were in there together!" Ja'far insists, getting thoroughly wound up by that obnoxious smirk Sinbad is giving him. "Sharrkan and Masrur were asleep in bed together, naked. Their clothes were everywhere."

"Remind me of _why_ you were in Masrur's room so early in the morning?" Sinbad asks, laughter in his eyes as Ja'far scowls at him.

"To wake him up, as always. You know full well he's never on time unless someone gets him."

"So why were Masrur and Sharrkan missing this morning, despite them conveniently being in the same place, thus making it easier to scold them both at the same time and deliver them to the meeting together?"

Ja'far pauses, his cheeks going a lovely shade of pink as he undoubtedly recalls the sight he found earlier. "Well, I didn't want to wake them," he says quietly, "it would have been horribly embarrassing for them both to be discovered in such a situation. I had _hoped_ that they would wake by themselves at a reasonable time... Or at least that Sharrkan would, and then wake Masrur."

He can't help but laugh now, at how _proper_ Ja'far is, and how he thinks those two would be. "My guess is that once they woke, the last thing on their minds was coming to a meeting that neither of them wanted to be at in the first place. They probably had better things to _do_."

Ja'far sighs as Sinbad laughs at his own implications, rubbing a palm over his forehead as a headache threatens to start. These men really were something else.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to fill [my Tumblr](https://chromiwrites.tumblr.com/) inbox with prompts, nonsense, or anything at all! I love to chat TT
> 
> Comments and kudos let me know if I'm doing something right, and I always love your feedback!


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